


Reno and the Malboros (AKA: Why does everyone think Reno smokes?)

by Strange and Intoxicating -rsa- (strangeandintoxicating)



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: And everyone using Reno as a scapegoat, Gen, Smoking, Very mild Zack/Cloud and Tifa/Rude if you squint really hard - Freeform, lots of guilt, mostly guilt - Freeform, mostly just kind of funny and then kind of angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 02:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8269435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeandintoxicating/pseuds/Strange%20and%20Intoxicating%20-rsa-
Summary: Reno's really, really confused as to why everyone seems to think he's a smoker. He's also getting pretty damn frustrated about the ugly pack of Malboros everyone's been throwing at him. Seriously, why does everyone think Reno smokes? And whose cigarettes are they?(The kinda funny and then kinda sad situation of finding out about the Malboro Cigarettes.)





	

The first time it happened, Reno thought it was a fluke, an accident. He was sitting in Tifa's bar, enjoying the cool whiskey breathing life back into him after a long day of traveling back and forth from Edge to Healen. It was times like this where he wished the damn train line President Shinra planned before Meteorfall had been completed in a timely fashion. But, no... of course the money went directly to Hojo and his band of freaky peons in lab coats.

So, there he was in Tifa's bar, moving uncomfortably on the stool to try and bring a little life and blood flow back into his ass. Sitting in one position was really starting to make his tail bone ache. And then Tifa turned to him, tossing a pack of cigarettes onto the counter and turned back to organizing her liquor stock.

"Huh?"

"You must have forgotten them here the other night," Tifa hummed as she turned a bottle of rum, the brand sticker reflecting the light onto the wall. "Figured I would give them back."

Reno let go of his whiskey, reaching out to grab the pack of cigarettes. They were Malboros. It was a garish package, dark gray background and a violent green chibi malboro on the front, one long green tentacle raised above its head and curled into the shape of the last 'o.' Underneath was a red ball of materia with the words "Shiva Blast flavor!" in ice blue.

Tacky.

Reno flipped open the box and counted eight cigarettes and a small black lighter slipped inside. He closed the box lid and tapped them twice against the counter.

"They ain't mine, sis. I don't smoke."

Tifa stopped mid-motion and turned slowly to Reno, her eyebrows slowly making their way into her hairline. "Say that one more time."

Reno looked from Tifa back to the little package in his hand, then back to the bartender. "I don't smoke, never have." He put the box back on the table, letting it stand straight up in the air. "So these gotta be someone else's."

"But... but I could have swore you smoked." Tifa's eyes were big and he could see her slowly cocking her head to one side. She looked genuinely confused, and Reno thought about making a joke about it. But then she was frowning and put her hands on her hips, turning her face from side to side. "Oh, Reno, don't play with me like that. You, Tseng, and Cid are the only smokers." She laughed and turned back to the bottles.

"But, toots, I don't smoke. Really." Reno emphasized his words by flicking the package. It fell back to the table with a thunk.

"But I have seen you smoke-"

"No, you haven't. Because I don't smoke."

"But..."

Reno shook his head and stood. He put down the cash on the table and snickered again at the package. "Sorry, but they really aren't mine. Anyway, back to the office. My ass hurts to sit on these damn stools."

A small smile broke across Tifa's face. "They aren't supposed to be too comfortable. Don't want people to sit and drown themselves in their sorrows." Reno snorted. Maybe this was the reason why Strife couldn't stay there. "Are you sure-" she started, but finally grudgingly sighed and collected his daily offerings.

* * *

 

Reno almost forgot about those Shiva Blast Malboros until a few weeks later when Yuffie handed him a package. It was the night after hanging out and drinking at the Seventh Heaven until his feet could barely find the way back to his apartment. In fact, he ended up crashing upstairs in one of the spare bedrooms Tifa set up a long time before just for situations like that. No doubt she hadn't expected a drunk Turk to be sleeping there, but it wasn't any skin off his nose.

"Oi, Turkie, you forgot these here!" Yuffie yelled before throwing it at Reno's head. He was lucky he was a Turk and had Turk reflexes, because there was no doubt in his mind that she was aiming that package for his eyes.

It was that Gaia damn ugly package, the little chibi Malboro smiling back up at him. But this time he noticed the ugly thing was winking. These ones were "Ifrit Burners." When Reno held up the package to get a better look, he noticed a little Shinra logo written neatly on the bottom.

"But I don't smoke?" Reno said as he tossed the cigarette package back to Yuffie, who managed to catch it with her forehead first.

"Ow! That hurt!" she complained, but Reno had too much of a headache to care what she had to say. Last night was the third reunion of Meteorfall. It was a night that became something like a somber mourning for those who had been so intimately involved.

The tradition started that first year, after Reno and some of the other Turks wandered their way into the newly constructed Seventh Heaven. There weren't a lot of bars open and, frankly, he didn't want to deal with all of the stares. People still remembered who they were and just who their boss was. Being so deeply hated made barhopping on one of the shittiest days of their lives just that much more difficult.

But Tifa let them in, and since then things had become better. The other members of Avalanche warmed up to them, or just plain ignored them. Reno learned not to come around on September 24th, the memorial date of when he had pulled the plug on Sector Seven's plate...

Reno didn't mention anything about it, and they were careful not to mention it either. It made things better that way, like if they pretended it hadn't happened, that it was really all on Shinra Senior, that this truce would work out.

Well, it wasn't going to work out if they kept throwing packs of cigarettes at him.

"Why does everyone in this joint think I am a smoker?" Reno grumbled and made sure to ignore the screeching White Rose of Wutai on his way out, the hangover running through his head making his head feel like it was on fire.

It took three cups of coffee to feel slightly human again, and by the time he managed to waltz into the new Turks Operations unit of the WRO in downtown Edge, the other Turks were already happily assembled. What a crew.

Rude and Elena were typing away at the stacks of papers that towered over them, threatening to fall at any minute. Had Reno been a dick (and also willing to fuck up his own hours and hours of meticulous work) he would have been tempted to flick the papers over. But, seeing as he liked his head firmly attached to his shoulders, Reno avoided coming into contact.

"You were pretty out of it last night, amazed you made it to work," Elena snipped as she looked over her tower of papers. It was a brief moment, but Reno could tell she was looking him over for any signs of drunken stupidity. "I hope you are ready to work."

Reno scratched his nose, letting his shirt ride up just a little. Elena had absolutely no interest in him, that he was damn sure, but it was still fun to pick on her and her beet red face.

"Oh, yeah. I am just dandy." Reno snorted. "Perky like a motherfucking daisy."

Rude didn't say anything, but he did snort when he looked up from his stack of neat papers, then returned to typing. "The boss wants to see you."

Well, that wasn't new, but he was pretty sure he hadn't done anything wrong.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll go find him. Lemme guess he is in Healen and needs me to bring him something," Reno muttered as he headed off through the room toward his desk. Really, Rufus was healed; why couldn't he just suck it up like the rest of the Turks and let the past stay in the past? He may not have been well liked or respected, but it was better to be in the normal world than hiding in the shadows, waiting for the big baddies to come out to attack.

"Quick question," Reno asked as he looked over the top of his desk and then threw himself down into the wheelie chair. It moved under his and squeaked. "Do I smoke?"

Elena looked up over her paperwork, a small frown tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Why are you asking stupid questions?" she finally asked. "Oh, oh, I get it. You are still drunk. Maybe you should just go home, get some sleep. The boss wouldn't want you breaking your neck to get back to Healen."

Reno tched. "C'mon, Laney, I ain't drunk. Just... Tifa and that brat ninja of theirs seem ta think I'm a smoker. I dunno-do I smoke when I drink?"

Rude responded. "No."

"Yeah, you don't smoke... At least, I've never seen you do it. Maybe they're just mistaken?" Elena tinkered with the files in front of her.

"Yeah, maybe..."

* * *

 

Reno let it go again, but the third time he had to put his foot down.

It was the autumn festival on October 31st, and Reno was done with everyone telling him he was a smoker. The fact that it was Vincent freaking Valentine handing him the pack of Malboros, these ones a "Leviathan Twist." The damn Marlboro was blowing him a kiss.

"These are yours, right?"

Reno looked at the package and then at the others around the bar. Tifa and Elena were behind the counter making drinks, while Tseng and Rufus sat in one of the corner booths of the bar. Red was sitting on the floor next to another with Marlene and Denzel, who were both dressed up in their blue suits. They had decided to go trick-or-treating as Turks, along with Tifa and Rude later in the night (Tifa looked at the suits disapprovingly, but acquiesced to their request. ) Barret was next to them, occasionally sending short, pointed glares to the suits. He didn't say anything, though.

Cid, Shera and Reeve were sitting on the stools in front of bar talking about something Reno was damn sure he didn't want to listen to. Yuffie was playing around in the corner with a stereo, turning on some of the popular music that was three years out of date. Reno really didn't like her taste in music, more bubblegum pop than rock and roll, but no one else seemed to notice.

Cloud was sulking somewhere, but Reno had no idea where. He was usually sulking.

And then there was Vincent, standing in front of him with another box of those Gaia-damned cigarettes.

"No. They aren't mine."

"Tifa said you would say that. Then said I should give them to you anyway, and tell you not to smoke in front of the kids."

"But I don't smoke."

"Not my problem."

Reno side-eyed the vamp Turk in the red cape as he crushed the cigarette pack into his hand and stalked off toward Yuffie to sit in the darkened corner behind the equipment.

"What the fuck is with everyone?" Reno wondered out loud as he looked at those damn cigarettes. "Hey, hey! Ninja, kill the music-"

But Yuffie and the others ignored him, continuing on with their fun. The only one who looked at him was Denzel, who seemed to be picking up on Cloud's sulking movements. The teenager made a brief gesture with his head to Reno, who looked down at himself and then back at Marlene. The brown-haired boy said something to the girl as she scooted herself further down the bench. She adjusted her tie and giggled.

"Oh, you little shit," Reno muttered under his breath but followed him out toward the garage.

"These better not be yours. If they are, you better bet your ass that Tifa's gunna kick it."

Denzel looked at Reno, frowning. "No, they're not mine. But you should give them here." He reached out to grab them, but Reno lifted his hand up high, dangling the box over the kid's head. "C'mon, Reno, give them!"

"And have your fake daddy and mommy kill me? You're outta your mind. I ain't doin' nothing to get in trouble. Smoking kills, y'know?"

"Reno, give them to me."

Reno turned his head to the side to where the voice came from, only to see Cloud standing there with his hand out.

"Wait, you smoke?"

Denzel jumped up to grab the cigarettes, but Reno lifted it higher.

"Yes. They're mine. Denzel, go inside."

Denzel huffed slightly and reached down to smooth out his tie. It reminded Reno of the kind of thing Rude would do on occasion. "Cloud," the boy said, but Reno could see that his mouth was already fastened into a frown that was damn near identical to the blond.

"No, go back inside and help Tifa. You're supposed to be leaving soon, anyway."

Denzel put his hands in his pockets and scuffed the bottom of his shoe on the ground, and Reno had to fight back a smile. He looked good in the suit. No doubt in a few years, if he wanted to really wear it, then Rufus would have no issue offering it. Yet, still considering all of the problems with Shinra... maybe not.

Reno went back to looking at Cloud as the boy shuffled off. Cloud had his hand out still, and Reno finally brought it down to give the package to the man.

"Sorry," Cloud said, though there didn't seem to be much of an apology in his words.

"What're you apologizing for?"

Cloud laughed and ran a hand through his hair and nodded toward the front of the garage. Reno followed him back, avoiding a few oil spills and the tool box next to Fenrir, getting his way back up to the work bench. There was a cigarette tray there, full of ash and crunched cigarette butts.

"I've been blaming the cigarettes on you," Cloud finally supplied as he flicked open the pack of Leviathan Twists. He pulled one out and reached over to his desk, rustling with some of the things on the desk until a little black lighter fell out. He snatched it up and stuck the filter in his mouth and lit, taking a deep drag.

Since Tseng smoked, Reno was used to the smell, but there was something fruity about Cloud's cigarettes that made the acrid scent all the worse. He tried to control his face and put his hands in his own pockets. "They're just cigarettes."

Cloud shook his head and pulled the cigarette from his lips, the smoke curling out of his mouth and around his head. It was almost pretty, the way the light wind picked up the gray, blurry and distorted. But Reno wasn't a poet, and he wasn't a damn smoker. "Still, figured it was better to blame you for the packs I kept forgetting. That way Tifa didn't toss them out."

Reno could understand that point. Tifa did have a strict rule about what was and wasn't okay with Marlene and Denzel. In the bar most things were fine, but there was no way Tifa would let Cloud smoke in the house, around the kids.

"How do you keep the smell off you?"

Cloud rolled his shoulders and took another puff. "Well. I'm always working with the bike. Usually you can mask the smell with that orange grease soap. It scrubs pretty much everything off." The man looked down at his fingers, a small frown pulling at his lips. "He used to smoke."

Reno looked at Cloud quizzically, but the blond continued, "It's one of the few things I really remember about him, about the travel from Nibelheim back to Midgar. He always smoked Malboros... said he thought the design was cute." He smiled and ran a finger over the Malboro blowing kisses on the front.

Reno couldn't have agreed, but who was he to fight with a ghost?

"I guess... after I took in all of him and lost him... I guess this is a way to remember." The rueful smile tugged at his lips again, and it was difficult to not feel uncomfortable when Cloud's mako blue eyes stared at him. "I get that it isn't healthy. But it's easier. And Tifa would make me quit if she knew."

All Reno wanted to do was find out why people kept pelting him with cigarettes. He hadn't signed up for this.

"You think Tifa would make you stop smoking? Dude, you're a big boy. You can always make your own decisions."

Cloud shook his head and took another puff, this time letting the smoke filter from his nostrils. "She's got her own things to worry about-the kids, Rude, the bar. I don't need her worrying about me, too."

After Geostigma, everyone had been so proud that Cloud was able to move forward. But if he was sitting in his garage smoking Zack Fair's fucking cigarettes, there wasn't much moving forward being done, was there?

"I'm not gunna be your scapegoat, Strife. Either find someone else to blame or..."

"Or what?"

Reno looked over at the cigarette dangling from between Cloud's lips. He reached over and yanked it out and raised the cigarette to his own lips. He took a pull and nearly gagged as the smoke invaded his lungs. It was like breathing in a Fire spell.

He held it for only a moment before coughing it out and tossing the cigarette to the ground, driving his heel into the red tip. It felt nice smashing that cigarette into the ground. "Shit, those things are nasty."

Cloud didn't say anything, instead just reaching into the pack and pulling out another, slipping it between his lips and lighting it, taking a bigger drag. "You get used to them. It takes time, but you get used to them."

Reno sniffled a bit and hocked up some phlegm, spitting it outside the garage. "If you say so."

There was a tense silence for a moment, but finally Cloud sighed and laid the cigarette in the ashtray. "You going to lecture me?"

Reno shrugged. "Nah, no point. You got your own issues. I ain't your mama, and Tifa ain't your mama. You'll figure it out on your own or someone'll slap you straight."

Cloud snorted. "Yeah, pretty sure he would say the same thing."

Reno did smile at that. Yeah, that would be the SOLDIER Reno remembered. "You know he wouldn't want you to kill yourself."

"It's a cigarette, it isn't going to kill me."

"Yeah, maybe not. But it is seriously gross. Figure out another way of..."

"I'm never going to die, Reno. I'm stuck like this, forever."

It was the first time Reno ever heard Cloud speak so frankly about whatever happened to him in his time with Hojo. He was aware of some of the shit that went down, only after Midgar had its lid popped off after Meteorfall. All the papers, all the hidden experiments. It wasn't surprising Cloud had his shit falling around him or that he was smoking like a damn chimney.

"Then I think you and the vampire need to figure out something to do about that in a hundred years. No one deserves to be miserable for the rest of their lives-no matter how long that is."

Reno knew when he was wanted and not wanted, and he could tell from the way Cloud was staring down at his burning cigarette that this was the time he needed to leave. But, just as he turned, Cloud said something.

"Can you just... not mention the cigarettes for now? I'll try and figure something out."

Reno nodded. "Yeah, yeah. But you owe me."

Cloud smiled, what Reno could only assume was a genuine smile, and went back to looking at the cigarette burning away in the ashtray.

"Thanks."


End file.
